~E~

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait one second. Back this gossip train right up." Sarah shrieks into the phone. "You had lunch with whom?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "Knox, the hot new therapist that started working at my job a few days ago, and my crazy ass mother."

"Oh, my God. I need to ask this. Why? Why in God's name would you bring your mother along? I'm sure she nit-picked at everything the entire time." Sarah says and I picture her annoyance, the eye roll apparent in the way she's talking.

I've known Sarah for years now, having become inseparable in high school, only to then go to college together. The sound of her voice is always a dead giveaway to how she's feeling, never one to hide anything. It's gotten her in trouble before.

"Of course she did. He breaks her number one rule besides a few others. God, I can barely keep all ten of them straight anymore. It's like they blur together now."

"Ten!" Sarah says, her voice resonating shock down the line. "Since when have there been ten?"

I laugh, Sarah's memory is one of a fish. "It's been ten since the day she started filling my head with them."

See, growing up, my mother loved to talk about these rules with my older sister, Melissa, and me. When we were too young to quite understand, she would say simple things like, "Remember, true love takes time girls. Don't ever go by attraction alone," Or, "We only date people like us, girls, remember that. It's important."

As we got older, she sat us down, the written rules on a laminated board for us to memorize. Never once did she say why they were so important, only that they were. And we weren't to ask questions.

"Okay, she hated him then, right?" Sarah asks, but she knows the answer.

"Do you even have to ask?" I snort, as I remember the lunch, the ever so awkward lunch. Being around both of them at the same time was a lot to handle. Mainly because I can't fucking figure out why Knox is affecting me this way. The past couple of days at work, I've managed to avoid him, for the most part, with a few passings in the hallway. I can't deal with these emotions, therefore avoiding him is the best solution. My life has enough going on. My mother being the biggest issue.

"Tell me all the details; I need to know the details."

"Okay, you ready? Brace yourself for the ride to crazy town." Sarah giggles. I curl up on my couch, wrapping my legs under me. Taking a sip of wine, I settle in, ready to spill.

"First of all, Sarah, Knox is... damn, girl, he is easy on the eyes. Tall and handsome with dark features; I was drawn to him as soon as I saw him in the office..." I go on to explain our encounter and the tour. I tell her about my mother showing up unannounced and how he told her to leave.

"No way! I wish I'd been there to hear that! I don't even have the balls to do that!" We both laugh. Sarah has no problem telling off anyone who gets in her way, but she's a mute when it comes to my mom.

"He wasn't rude, either; he said it nicely but she got offended like usual, and demanded I call her later, whispering to me that I’d better not date him."

Sarah whistles low, "There it is. You knew she was going to throw that in there!" I hear her crunch on something and I shake my head as I sip my wine. That girl is always munching.

"She leaves, or so I thought she did, and that's when Knox asked me to go to lunch." Before I can finish, Sarah butts in, her excitement coming through the phone. "Oh! What a gentleman. You better not have said no."

I chuckle, "I thought about it. I mean, he isn't dating material, Sarah. He's a coworker which is bad news all around. Even if my mom didn't have that stupid rule, I doubt I'd date someone I work with. It's asking for trouble."

"That's it, Em? That's the only reason you wouldn't date him? You said he's not dating material. What else isn't dating material about him?"

Sarah is like my own therapist. She may not have an overly analytical brain like I do, but she can read me like an open book.

"Well... he's basically sex on a stick. That doesn't make for husband material."

Sarah scoffs, "Em, come on. You barely know the guy. I hate to say it, but you sound like your mom."

I pull the phone away from my ear. Did she say what I think she said?

"What?" I ask her, my surprise evident.

"I love you, Em, but what you said sounds like something your judgmental mother would say."

I gasp, realizing she's right. "Shit. I do." I whisper, horrified with myself. I take a gulp of wine, letting the cold liquid run down my throat, hoping it will knock some sense into me.

Sarah laughs. "It's natural. She pounded that shit into your head like a Goddamned drill sergeant. Anyway, how did she end up at lunch?"

"Okay, right. I went with Knox to the sandwich shop down the street, and as soon as we pulled in, I shit you not, there she is."

"What?" Sarah shrieks, "What in the fuck? She followed you guys!"

"Ridiculous, isn't it? I was absolutely mortified. But Knox came to the rescue after I stormed out of the truck, ready to attack her. I can't take her shit much longer."

Flashes of childhood memories play before my eyes. Too long I've dealt with her and her madness. Way too long.

"I don't know how you do it! Damn, Emma, she never stops."

"I know, I know," I sigh, "Much to my dismay, he asked her to join us, in a cute attempt to defuse the situation. Honestly, I secretly think he was trying to score brownie points."

"Ha!" Sarah giggles, "I'm not surprised. She's not an easy one to score anything with."

"Don't I know it, but the poor guy tried his hardest. He deflected her bitchy-ness the entire time, steering the conversation elsewhere. I could easily tell he's been a therapist for years, the skills we use on people was noticeable. Overall it wasn't bad. I wish though... oh, never mind." I stop the thought in its tracks. No need to say it, because I shouldn't be thinking it. He's off limits. No picturing of his sexy lips allowed, or the way he laughs freely, his face lighting up at the smallest things.

"You wish what, Em?" Sarah asks, interrupting my thoughts.

"Nothing." I answer, fiddling with the hem on my pajama shirt, the fabric worn and soft. "Those hands are constantly moving, playing with something. Sit still like a proper lady!" I hear my mother's voice scold me, the memory strong. A nervous habit I guess; my fingers have a mind of their own.

"You like him, don't you, Em? I know how you get. Shy and anxious. Are you playing with the hem of your shirt right now?" Sarah questions me, and I can't help but laugh, my friend pinpointing me exactly.

"Your laugh is a dead giveaway. Maybe he will defy all odds and knock the socks off your mother. He'll break the rules and finally, cure her." Our laughter mixes together, Sarah's humor spot on. Wouldn't that be a hoot. It'll never happen. My mother believes what she believes and I hate to admit it but I believe it, too. It's all I've ever known. But what if your mom is wrong? What if love doesn't follow any rules? The voice in my head asks me for the umpteenth time, and I push it down.

"How did you leave off?" Sarah asks, while I pause to finish my glass of wine. I yawn, the long week taking hold; grateful tomorrow is finally Friday.

"My mom drove me back to work. Knox offered but she was quick to jump in. She must know there was a connection between us. I mean, you would've been blind not to see it."

"Oh, you finally admit something. Gush about him, will you? You only live once, Em."

I grin to myself like a gofer as Knox's image flashes in my mind. "Mmm, he's gorgeous. His suit pants hug his body like a glove, a nice ass to grab on to. Not many men have a good ass anymore." Sarah mutters her agreement, urging me on. "His biceps flexed under his shirt every time he moved... Shit, I caught myself staring a few times. Ooo, his face... even better... dark olive skin with sexy lips." Sarah's giggles snap me out of my reverie. "Damn, I'm rambling! You need to see him. I won't do him justice only describing him."

"Lunch at the office on Monday?" Sarah asks excitedly, like a young girl seeking out her crush.

Our conversation wraps up shortly after; Sarah fills me in on her life briefly. The rest we'll discuss at lunch. I let her know about Curt, the guy my mother desperately wants me to date, who is texting me once a day now. She tells me to pursue Knox, regardless of how my mom feels. It's about how I feel.

What do I feel? I wish I knew, or could at least figure it out.

After hanging up, I sit, my hands pulling on the hem of my pajama shirt. A jumble of emotions flow through me and my eyes slip closed, exhaustion nips at me.

Is my mother right? Do rules matter when it comes to love? Is that how we find the perfect person?

So far, I've been unsuccessful. My sister, Melissa, my mother's right hand girl and ever devoted rule keeper, certainly believes them. Funny how her first marriage didn't work out.

Lately, doubts are digging their way in my brain like small seeds ready to sprout. Why can't I have sex before the first five dates, as rule number 2 states. How horrible can it be? I've never had a one night stand because of this rule. I'm missing out, I know I am. I watch Sarah, and my other friends have wild nights and I long to do the same. For the experience, for the fun, to live without rules for a change. But shame and my mother's stern voice hold me back.

She states there's no such thing as insta-love. Love needs to grow over time. I understand this rule, but I question it. What about love at first sight? What about instant attraction? All of those amazing experiences are wiped away with one rule.

I sigh, my body depleted. I grab the remote, needing something to do with my ever fidgeting fingers. I flip through Netflix, in search of a new show, when my phone buzzes with a text.

<Hey, Emma. Remember me? Max? Max Kensington?>

My stomach flips, the butterflies suddenly alive and well. Max Kensington? Crazy, obsessed with me Max Kensington?

It's been years since I've heard from him, our short-lived college relationship one I've tried to forget. Many times.

A few more messages pop through asking if we can get together. I decide not to answer, flicking my phone to silent.

I sink back into the couch, pressing play on my remote.

~K~

I open my apartment door, the smell of food hitting my nose. Ron and Jim stand there with grins plastered on their faces, and Chinese takeout and beer in their hands.

I grin back, holding the door wide open for them to enter. Man, I love guys' night. We hang out, eat and drink, while we shoot the shit and watch whatever the hell is on.

"Hey, guys, how's it going?" I pat their backs as they walk past me, shutting the door behind them.

Jim speaks first, ever the talkative one. "Good, man, married life is still the same, how about you?"

I nod, as I help them unload the goodies. "Same here man, working and shit. Getting the new practice going." Ron passes each of us a beer, as he cracks them open with his bottle opener.

"Ah, that's right," Jim says, "How's it going?"

I shrug, not caring to rehash the past week. Stressful and mind-numbing, quickly come to mind. "It's going. It's a lot of work right now, but as soon as I'm up and running better, I'm sure things will flow much smoother."

"Beats the community work, though, right?" I nod in response as Ron continues, "I've actually started a new job," he announces before he takes a swig of his beer. I grab plates and forks, and place them on the coffee table. We crowd around, as we park our asses on my couch, each of us ready to dive in.

"Really, where?" I ask, happy for Ron. I know he hated his last job as a delivery driver.

"I'm driving still, but it's longer distance now, without all of the stops. I only have to make two or three stops now."

I take a pull of beer, as the other two load their plates with food. "That's awesome, man, I'm happy for you." Jim nods in agreement, as he fills his mouth with lo mien.

"Yeah, I enjoy the driving bit. The deliveries and stops are what sucked." We laugh, and I load my plate up with food now. My stomach shouts its misery.

"You never were a people person, dude." Jim says, his own self being a social butterfly.

I've known Jim since high school, and Jim met Ron in college, eventually bringing all three of us together. Jim has been the partier of the bunch. He socialized with everyone and dragged us along. He was fun to be around and the life of the party; he still is. Ron is quieter but once he opens up, he's a funny guy. Plus, he'll always have your back. Loyalty is key in a good friendship.

"Did all of your patients follow you?" Ron asks me in between bites of general Tso's chicken. The Chinese fare is delicious tonight, each bite tastier than the last. I wipe my mouth with a napkin before swallowing my food with a drink of beer.

"Most of them did, but not all. Some are a better fit for the community service center, due to transportation or living situations. I helped them find new placement before I left."

"Any hot new coworkers?" Jim asks, ever the curious one. He knows I'm on a break from women right now... indefinitely. Hell, I haven't gotten laid in almost six months, and I'm chomping at the bit.

I chuckle, filling my mouth with more noodles to avoid the question. Yeah, there's a hot one all right. One who will make you fall to your knees and beg. A mind fuck is what she is. I need to stay far, far away.

Jim slaps my back playfully. I want to wipe that smirk off his face. "There is, huh? Are you staying away from women still?"

Ron shakes his head as he throws me a look of sympathy. He knows damned well how a woman can fuck up your entire life. Royally. It takes a long time to heal from love wounds. Time heals all, they say, but does it? Can it? Some scars are too deep, I think. "Sharon was a royal bitch, man. And I know, it's hard to get past it or to even want to try again. Take your time; you'll know when you're ready, again."

"I appreciate that." I nod at Ron, grateful for someone who understands. Jim pats my back again, this time with sympathy. He's married to his high school sweetheart and didn't experience a deep heart break. I hope he doesn't.

"I can only imagine the pain. Keep your head up man." Jim says and I murmur my thanks, as I stand and stretch.

"Another beer, guys?" I ask, the conversation over.

* * *

The guys left ten minutes ago, after a few hours of shooting the shit. The usual topic of conversations flowed, with sports and jobs being the top two. They didn't ask about Emma again and I offered no additional details.

Steam from the running shower fills the bathroom. When I step in, the scalding water cascades down my back and lights my skin on fire. There's nothing quite like washing away the day's dirt and insecurities. Soap slides over my body, and Emma finds her way back into my mind. My cock thickens and I groan, imagining her here with me, her hot tiny hands running all over my body. I close my eyes, moving my head under the steady stream of water.

My body hums, my heart picking up speed, a full grown erection taking hold. I squeeze my eyes shut, balling my fists. You can't be daydreaming about this woman, she's your coworker. How will it look to your patients, your business?

I slam my hand against the tile wall, my frustration boiling over. This woman... she's driving me crazy. Invading my every thought. Since our lunch, I haven't been able to push her out of my head. I barely saw her the rest of the week in the office, both of us busy with patients. I tried to catch her on lunch, but she wasn't around and I couldn't ask questions.

Faye kept throwing me flirty eyes, and while it's flattering, my mind pulls me back to Emma. Every time. My body, my heart—both scream at me to make a move. There's something there. Something more. But, my mind holds me in place, keeping me at a distance. Watching her, only to want her more. How long can I hold back before I give in? Until I'm drowning in everything that is her. Until I'm so far under, I won't know what's happening around me. Deeper and deeper I'll go. Then, without warning, I'm shattered and left with broken pieces. Who will fix me when there are too many pieces scattered?

I'm deflated now, the moment gone, my desire gone. I yearn for Emma. But, it's not the right time, nor place. I doubt it'll ever be the right time.

Dry and exhausted, it's time to call it a night. The full calendar of patients for tomorrow means my day will be non-stop. At least I'll probably be there alone since most of the other doctors don't see patients on Friday. Maybe I'll finally catch up.

My phone buzzes on the kitchen counter where I left it charging. Ethan's name flashes, several messages beginning to pour in. I blow out a breath, my stomach sinking. Looks like it won't be an early night after all.